


Patterns of Warmth, 2 - New Ground

by IreneClaire



Series: Dimensions [2]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Caring Steve, Feelings Realization, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, New New Relationship, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, Protective Steve, S8 Ep11, Sick Danny, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, mcdanno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-13
Updated: 2018-06-06
Packaged: 2019-05-06 08:33:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14638086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IreneClaire/pseuds/IreneClaire
Summary: A continuation of this warm and fuzzy verse with an intentional growth towards a pre-relationship, pre-slash vein. Much license is taken with a ton more angst based upon and around the happenings of S8E10 "I Ka Wa Ma Mua, I Ka Wa Ma Hope". A new relationship is building between the two as Danny recovers from being shot with a doting Steve and a bit of Charlie, too.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jazzie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jazzie/gifts).



> A birthday fic for JazzieG! Happy Birthday! 
> 
> I do not own Hawaii Five-0 or any characters. No copyright infringement intended.
> 
> Notes: a happy birthday story for JazzieG per her special request for something special. I promised something for sure if I had a "non-occurrence" of a particular event for me (though I do have one or two more tests) which so far, is a good thing. So, here we go.
> 
> I hope it's enjoyable as a furthering of Patterns of Warmth and what I'm definitely calling a pre or new relationship now since this appears to be a new verse which is making the muse happily indulgent.
> 
> More thanks to Phoebe for the sanity checks on tact and flow - and general, all round angsty-ness. :-)

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O**

 

Danny hadn't been himself for days, but he'd refused to admit it. Each day, he dragged himself out of bed and into the shower, lying to himself that he felt fine and vowing that he'd be able to simply work through the chills, nausea and pounding headache. That his chest didn't hurt every time he tried not to cough because the act of coughing left him breathless and nearly crippled from pain. He'd managed well enough with a variety of over the counter medications and even bluffed his way past his partner's wheedling questions.

But something had shifted that morning and Danny found himself braced against the kitchen table upon literally crawling back to his feet after tying the shoelaces on his son's sneakers. He only coughed maybe once or twice and yet, the pain was excruciating. It lanced across his side and near where the bullet had gone. Close to where the incision had been made first by Steve and then used by his doctor to repair his damaged lung. He could scarcely see straight as the heated throbbing continued and the feeling of nausea had dared give way to a very real bout of dry heaves. As his stomach clenched and his head pulsed, Danny didn't even try to move. He'd never make it to the bathroom in time. It was potentially safer to stay where he was and aim himself towards the kitchen garbage bin then risk a mad dash down the hallway. There was no dashing anywhere in his current state anyway. In all likelihood, he'd trip over his own two feet.

He should have called his doctor days ago, but he'd been sick and tired of being poked and prodded ... but now, feeling as awful as he did ... Danny was kicking himself soundly. He should have sucked it all up and made an appointment to see his doctor at the first signs of illness. Biting back another dry heave, he'd clearly waited too long.

"Charlie," he whispered. "G'my phone." His voice cracked and a sharp dryness rattled his chest. He coughed again and hissed in pain, needing to wrap his arms around his chest as a brace.

"Danno?" Charlie was by his right elbow, sounding worried, and Danny could only nod in reply, eyes still closed and unable to find his voice. "Are we going to school now?" Mentally he was still telling that same lie: that he was perfectly fine and that Charlie shouldn't worry. But there was no way to hide how he was really feeling at that point and Charlie, even at the tender age of five, was aware enough to know that something could be very wrong with his father.

"Yup. M'fine Charlie," Danny finally rasped out as he wiped a few stray tears from his eyes. Charlie was wearing his new jeans and a crisp, white shirt. Danny had just finished brushing through his son's hair. The new sneakers had been the finishing touch and Charlie was ready to go, nearly bouncing on his toes he was so excited. Danny could hardly move though.

"Really ... don' worry," he promised, his smile more of a grim, thin-lipped grimace. "I'm good." Danny tried to straighten up and then winced as a sharp pain rippled across his ribcage. He bent back over protectively, one arm wedged tight to his side. "Shit," he muttered under his breath. There was no way he could drive and after the winter holiday, Charlie needed to get to school.

He didn't have just a cold and he knew it; not even the flu. In fact, truth be told, Danny was failing at trying to ignore a mental whispering that the way he was feeling was very much related to the shooting at the hospital. That had happened weeks ago though and his lung should have healed. _Should have._ And it probably had, but lurking not so far in the back of his brain was a concern that he was still recovering and susceptible to injury or even a damned infection. Danny knuckled his sternum and then sank down into the closest chair, eyes closed. That inner voice was winning out because how long had he been feeling under the weather? Days now. And stupid OTC meds were probably not the way to have gone for so long. Just like the damned thing should have healed, he should have called the damned doctor days ago. His doctor was going to have his head.

 _And as for Steve_? Danny snorted quietly under his breath. This was going to be a problem because Steve was going to shoot Danny - and with his own gun. But he'd shoot him twice if Danny didn't at least call him first ... and now. No matter the repercussions, Danny definitely needed to call his partner that very minute.

"Charlie, get my cell so I can call your Uncle Steve ... I'll see if he can help get you to school. Okay, buddy?" Danny said as he worked hard at taking a steady, careful breath. In, then out ... a simple count to three ... over again. He won the battle when each word came out fairly clearly, allowing him to smile reassuringly as Charlie loitered nearby.

"Go on. Dresser ... bedroom," Danny said as he motioned down the hallway.

"Okay!" Charlie finally got moving and Danny stayed where he was at the table, his face plastered deeply in his hands while listening to Charlie's feet thud solidly towards the bedroom. He smirked to himself, a small pleased smile at his son's energy level until he heard Charlie's voice and his son was most definitely not talking to him.

"Hi Uncle Steve! I got school today!" Then the exuberance ended on a loud secretive whisper. "But ... but, Danno's not feeling good ... he's sick."

"Shit," Danny groused. He forced himself to sit up in the chair, frowning now as Charlie came back to the kitchen, Danny's cell phone melded to his ear. Uncle Steve was on speed dial and Charlie had no qualms about pressing the few digits. Danny should have known his son would help himself to _helping_ his father. If Charlie's transition from Stan Edwards to himself had been somewhat awkward at times, Charlie's ready acceptance of his Uncle Steve had been downright seamless. Maybe it had been because of Grace. His sister would have had an influence on him to be certain, nevertheless, Danny knew it was probably just plain fate. Charlie simply idolized his Uncle Steve on sight and any excuse to see the man - or call the man - was grabbed with both hands. But now was hardly the time and the mouths of babes held no filters.

"Danno's sick ..." Charlie confessed and Danny groaned under his breath. "He doesn't feel good."

"Charlie ... I didn't say to call him. I only asked you to get me the phone," Danny said. "Just ... hand it over, bud."

"In the kitchen ..." Charlie answered a question, walking slowly back, his face now solemn as he listened not to Danny, but to Steve. "He coughed bad ... and he _barfed_ ... a lot!"

"Barfed? I did not! Seriously, Charlie! Now, come on. Give me the phone," Danny demanded, swallowing hard to hold back a sharp, biting cough which would validate at least some of his son's information. Far too much had already been shared and Danny rolled his eyes skywards when he heard the muffled questioning tone in the background, if not the words. Steve was automatically on a high alert with just a few simple sentences from a five year old.

"I'm fine," Danny said quickly as Charlie handed him the phone, talking before he barely had the device to his ear. "Steve? Take it easy, I'm fine."

 _"Fine? No ... What's wrong, Danno? Charlie said that you were sick ...,"_ Steve rebutted just as fast. _"You threw up? Why? What happened? What's wrong?"_

"Nothing. He's five," Danny snarked back lightly. "He's exaggerating ... it's not so bad. And I didn't _exactly_ throw up ..." He narrowed his eyes in warning at his son but rather than accepting the rebuff, Charlie dared to grin at him. He rotated the toe of his sneaker on the floor and that grin became a unrepentant smile. Stunned, Danny realized that Charlie had known precisely what he was doing and that he was going to have to have a talk with the boy when he was feeling better about privacy and what or when to say something.

 _"So, he's five; so what? He's a smart kid and you were coughing,"_ Steve half-asked and more demanded that Danny tell him the truth harder now, stressing the last word, unwilling to back down. He paused then, his voice dropping even lower and Danny almost caved at the softer quality.

_"How badly were you coughing, huh? How's your chest? Are you still nauseous? Can you breathe?"_

_Bad. It hurts ... hurts even worse when I breathe. I'm miserable._ Danny thought to himself just before opening his mouth to lie on impulse, biting back a defensive retort that if he couldn't breathe, then he wouldn't be talking at all then would he? What did it matter though because Danny knew that Steve would be reading right through him no matter what he said. In fact, as they were talking, Danny could easily hear the hearty engine revving on Steve's pickup truck. No matter what he said now, and even regardless of him needing a little help in getting Charlie to school, Steve was already on his way over for entirely different reasons. This hadn't been at all what Danny had intended to happen and he vainly tried to get his original purpose back on track.

"It's fine ... it's nothing," he lied. "I'm a little under the weather and ... and, I was wondering if you could drive Charlie to school; it's a half day. Some teacher conference thing in the afternoon and I'm sure I can pick him up later, but he needs to get there on time. It's the first day of school after the holiday break and ... this thing with me, it's just a blip."

There was almost a too long period of silence, as if Steve might be thinking, and he probably was as Danny registered the deep, pensive inhale on the other end. Another problem was being spawned and Danny cringed. Steve _thinking_ was never a good thing and he found himself sighing loudly because this entire discussion had been handled the wrong way from start to finish.

"Steve? Just, can you help me get Charlie to school?" Danny asked to fill the uncomfortable void of silence.

 _"I'll be there in a few ... I'll get Charlie to school. Then ... then, we're having a talk about what's really going on with this ... blip of yours."_ Steve's voice was stern and for a brief moment, Danny considered if he could learn to pocket its dangerous quality.

Danny opened his mouth to say something and then sighed again before laying his head on his arms in defeat, the phone slipping from his fingers to fall on the table face up. No, the tone was definitely a SEAL thing and he didn't need to bother trying to say a single word either. There was nothing he could say to defend himself. And besides, Steve had already ended the connection.

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Hawaii Five-0 or any characters. No copyright infringement intended.
> 
> Notes: Today's the day - Happy Birthday, JazzieG! Many thanks to Phoebe for corralling the "wordy muse" who kept over-explaining itself!

 

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O**

 

"I knew that I shouldn't have left you alone last night," Steve said to Danny as soon as he opened the front door and simultaneously scooped Charlie up into his arms while eyeing Danny from top to bottom. "I knew getting this little man of yours off to school this morning was going to be too much."

"The two of you ...," Though he was trying to smile, Danny started to complain and Steve shook his head.

"What? We worry too much? Of course we do, Danny," Steve interrupted as he rubbed Charlie's back. The two of them had been waiting for Steve to show up; both were anxious to leave for Charlie's school but for entirely different reasons and Steve could sense Charlie's uncertainty about the situation. He paused after giving Charlie a kiss and a soothing hug. He definitely could feel how upset the little boy was becoming and it would have been much simpler if Steve had just stayed the night. The comings and goings around his father's iffy health were more traumatic than if Steve had simply dug in and camped out on the couch.

"How are you doing?" Steve asked. He frowned at Danny's hunched over stance and the glassy, pained look in his eyes. His question was a stupid one, but he was concerned and admittedly confused because he hadn't witnessed this before. This wasn't from a head cold at all. Danny was literally quivering with pain and putting on a strong front for his son. Maybe even for him.  _Definitely for him_  because Danny didn't want Steve to worry any more than he already had over the last many weeks. Danny wanted things back to normal and was forcing that want to happen in a useless circle of self-torment. He wanted people to stop worrying about him and peppering him with questions. And, unused to the attention, he wanted Steve to relax and give him some space.

And that in itself was a noble if not a hopeless want because things had slowly been changing between them. Christmas had been a quiet affair moving into an interesting realm far beyond that of a friendly extended  _o'hana._ The slow metamorphosis was more reflective of a real relationship. It was heady and comfortably strange. Without uttering a word about it, they'd somehow agreed to feel things out - see where it might go - carefully; completely uncertain of each other's proximity, but simultaneously wanting to test the waters as they revolved around each other. If anything might be hopeless it was how inseparable they'd become; complete extensions, one of the other. So now, Steve merely stood there, holding Charlie in his arms, waiting for Danny to say something and knowing Danny would if he just prodded a bit harder.

"Danny?" Steve questioned again. "What's going on?"

Danny looked into his face with a conflicted relief at his arrival and tried to fix that lame excuse of a smile to his face. It meant he didn't know and he was scared. Steve's stomach clenched because he'd seen that look before - in the hospital and Steve should have listened to his instincts the prior evening. Hell, he should have listened long before that because -  _God help him_  - nearly losing Danny after being shot, Steve was fully vested in Danny's well-being just as Danny had always been in his.

"I should have stayed," Steve muttered when Danny tried to stifle a shallow cough, his shoulders hunching more in response to some severe internal ache. Steve should have stayed, but he hadn't. He'd stupidly respected Danny's reassurances and had permitted himself to be shuttled out the door. Upset by what he was seeing now, Steve had to bite back a mentally voiced curse.

"Like I told Charlie, it's just a little cold," Danny insisted on a breathy wavering exhale, unable to hide the strain in his voice. It was hard for Danny to speak and Steve's frown darkened to a displeased scowl. That was new, too. So, what had happened in just shy of twelve hours? Danny still sounded a bit sick like he had before, but the way he was standing, with his right arm virtually melded to his rib cage? The fact that he was now in pain was just all wrong and Steve felt a flare of fear sink into the pit of his stomach.

" _Jesus, what's wrong?_ " Steve mouthed over the top of Charlie's head as he slid the boy to the ground. Combined with his recovery, something else was clearly going on and it didn't take much to know that it was directly related to having been shot and the damage made to his lung.

"School. Running late," Danny said instead of directly answering and Steve's eyes snapped back up to Danny's face where he clocked the sheen of sweat next. For a moment Steve saw that spark of fear settle in his partner's eyes but then it was gone. It was quickly covered up by a defiant strength and an alarmingly normal smile aimed at Charlie.

"Backpack ... snacks," Danny added calmly to his son. "Jacket ... rain later. Don't forget."

"'Kay Danno," Charlie replied, smiling broadly as he took his backpack and shrugged it on over his shoulders.

"Yeah, okay," Steve also said, now unconvinced over which priority to look after first: Charlie or his obviously ailing partner. His mouth opened and then closed when he caught Danny's half-hearted sickish glare - a warning to manage Charlie first - which Steve correctly also read as not doing or saying anything to scare his son by focusing too much on him. Further conversation would have be tabled until Steve got back from the school.

"Keys ... car instead," Danny practically grunted the words as he tried to stifle a raspy cough. He closed his eyes as an obvious pain flared when a few more light coughs broke free, suddenly struggling to breathe and Steve spared Charlie a short, comforting smile as he took Danny's arms to gently guide him towards the sofa. Danny first ... Charlie second no matter Danny's disagreeable expression.

"Sit down for a second," Steve said softly when Danny huffed garbled noises about running late and why he wanted Steve to take his car. "Shut up and just breathe. I get it ... your car has Charlie's safety seat. No problem. We got a few minutes, so sit down for me, okay?"

Steve knelt on one knee as Danny reluctantly complied. His shoulders tense under Steve's hands and his breathing stilted, nearly a pant.

"Gotta go," Danny muttered.

"I know but slow it down," Steve softly coached him. "Don't go and hyperventilate on me now, either."

"M'not ... m'fine," Danny said. But the broken syllables of sound were completely unconvincing with the added issue of his eyes being squeezed tightly shut a second later.

"What?" Steve asked softly. "Tell me." Worry mounting and trying to keep his voice as low as possible when he sensed Charlie by his shoulder, watching like a young hawk, Steve leaned in to press his forehead to Danny's.

"My side's on fire," Danny croaked out. "But ... I'm  _fine_."

"Sure you are. Which is why you can't take Charlie to school, right? Because you're totally fine," Steve whispered inanely, his tone slightly sarcastic but significantly more concerned. He moved his head just enough to the side, aiming for Danny's ear in an effort to keep Charlie somewhat in the dark as the boy leaned against his side.

"I should've stayed last night, Danno," he whispered for what seemed the hundredth time. He was plainly upset with himself for not having done that. "Come with me now... we'll swing by the hospital after dropping Charlie off. Yeah, okay? Danny ...  _please_." Steve added the last word plaintively when he sensed the obstinate resistance. He grinned fondly though as he pressed his cheek to Danny's temple and then strengthened his plea by cupping Danny's head closer, his thumb rubbing a gentle pattern on his friend's jawline.

"We gotta check this out," Steve whispered as Danny leaned into him. "You know we do ... please."

Though it was the answer he wanted, if Steve had been alarmed before, that feeling worsened when he felt the subtle nod of Danny's head under his cheek.

 

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	3. Chapter 3

 

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O**

 

Steve had insisted on the emergency room in lieu of Danny's physician and then pulled every official string he had to jump the line, only stopping at diverting medical care from the woman in labor and a knifing victim. Danny wasn't really complaining about it because every move he made resulted in a flux of blinding agony. However, he was cognizant enough to at least feel relieved that the ER was slow that morning because he wasn't entirely sure what his over-bearing, badge-wielding partner might also have done had anyone truly objected his far-too officious methods.

Arm flung wide over his face and wishing himself dead after another bout of helpless dry-heaving, Danny lay on a gurney while Steve refereed his case. This - this part where Steve was intervening - _this_ he should have been complaining about. He should have put his foot down or objected to _this_ , but Danny was done. Since dropping off Charlie at school, his reserves were completely sapped and he had nothing left; not even the will to live. Besides, as he failed at forcing himself to prevent Steve from being his stalwart champion, Danny had come to the realization that he needed Steve to do precisely what he was doing ... Danny _needed_ him more than to just beg off help with getting his son to school.

In fact, Danny selfishly needed all of _this_ just like he needed to keep trying to breathe through the stabbing pain which had wrapped around his chest wall. He was barely dealing with yet another debilitating situation which was wearing him down bit by bit. He could hardly catch the doctor's explanation about what was wrong with him. The pain was a constant and he sarcastically wondered to himself if the knifing victim three curtains over was experiencing the same level of pain. If he did, Danny could almost feel sorry for the guy. _Almost_ only because Danny was mired in his own living hell and unlike that guy, he was still conscious. Then, on a dime, Danny was feeling sorry for the guy because that guy three curtains down didn't have a ... _Steve_ ... fighting for his cause, like Danny did.

"So ... so it's nerve damage then from the pneumothorax ... from the surgery?" Steve asked, incredulously. There was a pause in the conversation and in his mind's eye, Danny could see the confusion lancing across Steve's face. But the pause didn't last long and soon, Steve was at it again, his boots making rhythmic hollow sounds on the linoleum as he paced the floor, his voice ebbing as he turned this way and that as he dogged the doctor's heels.

"Is he going to get better ... is this damage going to heal ... is this pain going to ease up?" Steve pressed on, pestering the attending with a mutinous, threatening tone and Danny realized something else as he felt a warm emotional tug at the sound of his partner's voice, his next inhale catching in his throat.

"Steve?" Danny called out too softly for anyone to hear him, stunned by Steve's growing sense of protectiveness.

"What can you do for the pain then?" Steve was now making his demands at the foot of the gurney. "This neuralgia? I'm sure there's something you can do? Whenever he coughs from this damned head cold, it just about kills him ... and the nausea ..."

"Steve ... Steven," Danny muttered again and then swallowed hard at Steve's verbalization of that last word because his stomach was still very much on a terrifying, queasy roller coaster. He peeked out from under his arm, squinting against the bright lights in the ER, swallowing hard against a warning pang. But whatever he thought he'd wanted to say was drowned out by the doctor's response to Steve's concerns.

"Yes, yes. He'll heal and _yes_ , there is a protocol to follow and, as you know, I've already prescribed an anti-emetic and a series of stronger medications," the attending replied very patiently. "But he's going to have to ride that head cold out, along with how we manage to treat these other symptoms ... I think that scheduling some PT certainly could help ... but for now, the pharmacy will be sending up ... "

"That's it? Meds?" Steve interrupted in such a tone that Danny squinted at him harder. "Anti-emetics? That's all...?"

"Strong pain medications, Commander. Not just for the nausea," the doctor amended. "Primarily anti-inflammatories combined with strong painkillers ... but yes, something also for the nausea so he can find some relief. And the physical therapy ... that will also do some good to stretch those muscles and improve his breathing ..."

"I'll take them," Danny interjected as loudly as he could muster until he dredged up everything the doctor had just said. _Physical therapy?_ No, he couldn't fathom the thought of being touched or being forced to move his right arm more than he had to, so he amended his words as long as he finally had the doctor's attention.

"All of it except for the PT part... no on that, but yes on the meds. Now please ... and if they don't work, I'll sign up for the needle-thing."

"The needle thing?" Steve repeated under his breath, frowning until he figured out what Danny was referring to. "Yeah, I forgot about that, Doc. You mentioned a local anesthetic. Why don't we do that needle thing now? _Huh_?" He gestured down at Danny and then turned to the doctor, hands on his hips almost belligerently.

"Stand down, soldier," Danny whispered, earning a dark scowl from his friend. Steve had a good point though and Danny looked to the doctor next, an eyebrow raised because the concept of injecting a local anesthetic to block the damaged nerves in his chest wall sounded like a brilliant idea to him even if the needle would have to be slid carefully between his ribs. "Why not?" He seconded the question. "Can we do that now?"

"I'm sorry, Detective," the doctor said. "Because you tried to eat a light breakfast; even if it wasn't a lot of food, it's not part of protocol... and you're already nauseous," he calmly explained, refusing to wilt under Steve's ongoing challenge. "Listen, I know you're both hoping for something _more_ , but it's just not that simple ... but I could look into the procedure, get it scheduled ..."

"Okay, okay ... I get it. And just ... no I can't wait that long ... _Charlie_ ... I need to get to the school. There's no time," Danny stammered unhappily as he hid back under his arm, failing at stifling the pain in his voice. He switched gears now concerned about his son and accidentally scaring the boy. "Just ... _please_ , do something so I can go home ... get Charlie home, too. It's only a half day ... and I promised." He closed his eyes as the pain thickened around his chest in a wave, forcing him to take his time breathing in and then out, aware that Steve had moved to stand restlessly by his side, one hand warm on his shoulder.

 

**H5O* H5O**

Hours later, Danny was laying on his side in a half doze while Steve rubbed a haphazard warm pattern across his shoulder, collarbone and upper back, kneading gently into his left shoulder blade before starting over again. While the trailing fingers might not have exactly mimicked much of an intentional pattern at all, the touch of Steve's hands was firm and purposeful. For some reason, it didn't hurt and Danny was slowly relaxing as the ad hoc massage continued and Steve tried his best to soothe Danny back to a calmer place after bringing Charlie home from his half day at school. Something Danny had promised his son he would be doing. But the strong medications prescribed by the hospital had left Danny a muddled mess and bound to his bed so once again, Steve had jumped at the chance to help.

"Tell'm I'm sorry," Danny murmured. "Charlie?"

"He's already forgotten, Danno," Steve reassured him softly. "He's playing with his cars in the bedroom. He knows you don't feel well and he's fine; he understands. It's good enough that you're home; I promise that Charlie doesn't even know that we were at the hospital this morning. Things are okay."

Danny frowned into his pillow. He knew that Steve was right and Danny hadn't quite had a choice in the matter. In fact, he could hear the happy patter of Charlie's make-believe car noises and sirens eking in from the hallway. His son was certainly content enough.

"How are you doing? Is this helping?" Steve asked while carefully re-arranging his body on the bed. "I'm not hurting you, am I?" He was propped up against the headboard, balanced on his hip, moving slowly as to not jostle his dozing partner. Danny was on his side and facing away from him, leaning heavily against a series of pillows propped just against his back and hips.

"Hmm," Danny murmured. "No." Having finally discovered a happy position, he barely twitched at the questions, loathe to respond. If he didn't move - and he had no intention of moving - the pain stayed away or at least fell to a bearable minimum. His current position, combined with Steve's hands and a pleasant mind-numbing pain medication were doing wonders, and Danny simply hummed faint agreeable sounds.

In fact, Danny was down to a few monosyllabic responses by that point and focused solely on controlling his body's fluctuating whims ... and what Steve was doing. Right then, all Danny was willing to think about was:

... c _oughing bad. Moving far worse. But ... Steve? Steve was good ... very, very good_ as his fingers steadfastly found all the right spots to ease the deep aches, allowing Danny a rare chance at possibly even being able to fall asleep.

The soothing repetition of Steve's careful doting, along with the happy background murmurings of Charlie playing quietly in his bedroom only added to Danny's current level of almost pain-free existence. Things were finally almost all right and Danny was more than willing to go with that because, right then, it was all good enough. So, opting to go with their mental mind-meld in lieu of actual speech, Danny sighed contentedly and gave out with another tentative hum, risking a cough. He knew that his agreeable replies were received loud and clear when Steve paused mid-massage to gently squeeze Danny's shoulder before resuming his job.

"Good," Steve added softly. "Try to get some sleep; I'll check on the kid and get dinner going."

 _"The kid?"_ Danny lips mouthed and then twitched upwards, his eyes remaining peacefully closed. That was ... _cute_ and his smile deepened before easing away.

"Go to sleep, Danno," Steve urged. "You need the rest, buddy." Sleeping had been an evasive exercise and he was relieved to feel his body relaxing away from him. Steve's voice was growing fainter, a deeper drone comprised of words and promises. He sensed a smile in Steve's tone too as if he knew that Danny might be at the cusp of giving in. Finally.

Danny focused on the fingers which were rubbing deeply into his shoulder blade, once again amazed that it was helping and not hurting as much as he'd originally feared. Steve wanted to help with Danny's comfort as much as he enjoyed taking care of Charlie and alleviating any worries that Danny might have had in that department. Of course that was nothing new, he'd been like that from the very beginning, years ago, with Grace and Danny's ex-wife's one time bid to relocate State-side. Steve had been there then and every day since that time, just as he was there now. Except now, he was decidedly more vested, proven when Danny felt the first few feather-light kisses layered across his temple.

"Steve?" Danny whispered, his brow furrowed in a moment of confusion. He squinted his eyes open just enough to catch a hazy view of Steve's face inches from his own. He hadn't even realized that Steve had gotten off the bed and was readying to leave him to sleep. On instinct as if it were the most natural thing in the world, Danny smiled and tilted his head just enough. He leaned in, their noses brushing, catching Steve by surprise as their lips touched in a dry kiss.

"You're, _uh_ ... on the good stuff," Steve chuckled softly, his breath warm across Danny's cheek. "Try to sleep." He was indeed surprised, yet his fingers still carded through Danny's hair, rubbing lightly across his scalp. Softer whispers encouraged Danny to rest as long as he needed to. But then Danny was leaning forward again, seeking Steve's mouth, his lips, whatever he could reach. Daring to be bolder as he objected the simple excuse as him being a bit loopy on a strong medication because Danny certainly knew what he was doing.

"M'not... _Steve_ ," Danny murmured through a second more purposeful kiss. "Definitely _not_."

"Danny?" Steve breathed out just once and Danny smiled at the fondness of the tone which now questioned if Danny was really just acting on the good stuff or of sound mind. There was the briefest of pauses before his chaste attentions were returned, albeit hesitantly. Now, a hand tentatively brushed back a few strands of hair from Danny's forehead and Danny reached up to link their fingers together. He was too tired to do more than that. At one time, he might've thought all of this strange or even been shocked by his actions. Neither of them might ever have dared to be so bold. Things had altered though in a dramatic manner and it all felt perfectly normal.

Sinking deeper down, Danny sighed in contentment, their hands loosely joined, his mind slowly blanking into a deep dreamless sleep. He was oblivious to the fact that Steve stayed a few minutes longer, crouched down just watching him sleep. He never knew when Steve got to his feet to sneak soundlessly from the bedroom.

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Hawaii Five-0 or any characters. No copyright infringement intended.
> 
> Notes: sorry RL made for a nutty week so this was delayed in posting. Happy ongoing birthday Jazzie! Thanks Phoebe for the encouragement as this trudges on!

 

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O**

 

If Steve said that he didn't know what had just happened, he'd be kidding himself. What was slowly taking shape between himself and Danny had been happening for a while now. It was much more than some after burn coming out of some overly-emotional, arbitrary event or trying to pawn it off as a side effect of too much medication. From his own spontaneous actions where he'd not managed to divert a soft nuzzle to the side of Danny's head, to how he'd ended up so gently lip-locked with his partner, Steve definitely knew that they both were steadily advancing to another plateau. He wasn't even bothered by it; in fact, just maybe he'd been wanting it to happen.

Balanced on his toes, he watched Danny sleep for just a few more minutes, not wanting to put an end to their connection. Steve unconsciously touched his fingers to his lips. There'd been no fireworks or sparks. Nothing like that at all, but there had been an overwhelming sense of rightness. Danny was sick, exhausted and hurting; his breathing had evened out practically before his eyes had slid shut. But there had been such a moment of startling clarity in Danny's eyes, no matter how tired he was, that Steve knew he'd meant every word he'd whispered.

Almost reluctantly Steve rose to his feet. Alert to the sounds in the background, Steve was half-aware that Charlie's soft marathon of rumbling, throaty car noises and falsetto make-believe voices had ceased. He smiled, still watching Danny sleep before forcing his feet to move; he needed to check on Charlie. Lost in that recent memory of those shared kisses though, his smile deepened as he walked down the hallway. All of this was funny really and Steve could expect the inevitable counter-argument from his partner. Once he was feeling better, Danny would have countless objections related to the concept of _them_ and even a few good ones could make better sense. Steve might find himself agreeing with one or two. Nonetheless, there were just as many other valid arguments which would work firmly in their favor and Steve would have each one meticulously prepared.

"Uncle Steve?"

He automatically turned at the call of his name to come face to face with one of those very special reasons. If Steve was getting ready to admit to loving Danny at another level - and he was - then he would also willingly admit to already loving both of Danny's kids. Grace would always have the honor of first place in his heart, but now there was Charlie. The boy was an untouched, innocent carbon-copy of his father and Steve had been smitten with him on sight after Danny's ex-wife had confessed her inconceivable lie about the boy's paternity.

"Uncle Steve?" Charlie repeated breathlessly, smiling broadly as he stared up into Steve's face. Thick blond bangs nearly covered the sparkling blue of Charlie's eyes and Steve reached out, finger-combing the boy's hair off his forehead. Charlie was due for another haircut and yet, Steve liked this longer style too. He wouldn't mind one bit if Danny held off on making that appointment.

"What's up?" Steve asked. "Hungry?"

"No. I want to ride my new bike," Charlie said, spreading his arms high out to the side with a dramatic flair. "I want to ride it around the _whole_ block." Charlie was indeed a miniature version of his father at the best of times, all flying hands, funny expressions and constant motion. But when Charlie smiled, just as he was now, he was all of Danny's finest attributes combined and there'd be no way for Steve to deny him a blessed thing in the world. How anyone could have argued against Danny being Charlie's father in the first place, must have had a screw loose.

"Can I? _Please_?" Charlie drawled plaintively for good measure when Steve paused far too long for a five-year old's patience level, his head cocked endearingly to the side. Seeming to think that Steve might say no, Charlie made a face next, his lips pressed firmly together to express his seriousness. Then, his arms were moving again, wind-milling through the air in large sweeping motions.

"I'm not allowed to go alone. Danno said him ... or you ... _you_ could take me. So can we, Uncle Steve? Please?"

Steve glanced once in the direction of the master bedroom. Danny would be out for the count for hours and Steve could hardly expect Charlie to bide that time playing alone in the house. There was really no reason why he couldn't kill some of that time before making dinner by taking Charlie out to play for a bit. By then, maybe Danny might be just about ready to wake up and have something to eat, too.

"Well...," Steve started to say, already chuckling because Charlie was practically bouncing on the balls of his sneakered feet in anticipation and that patented Williams' smile had only gotten larger. Steve was sunk before the conversation had even kicked off.

"Well okay ... you got me, buddy. Let's go," he said, laughing out right when Charlie grabbed his wrist to practically drag him out the door.

 

**H5O* H5O**

Danny woke slowly, automatically careful not to move too fast but it didn't matter because his ribcage was already pinging in alarm. The pain was likely what had woken him. Duller than it had been, he still hurt badly enough and could easily tell that it was well past time for his medication. If what was happening was a true indication, he'd be living on the prescribed anti-inflammatories and pain killers at least for a few more days until the aggravated and damaged nerves were able to heal more.

"Crap," he whispered, eyes squeezing shut for a moment as a sharp pain rippled through his chest. He snuffled loudly next, needing to clear his throat too because evidently the head cold was also still on his list of woes. "Don't cough ... don't _cough_ ...," he muttered nasally as a tickle settled in the back of his throat and he coughed anyway, nearly gagging.

"Why me?" He groaned in disgust as he ducked his head back under the blankets because, the more he woke, the more miserable he felt and none of it was fair. Not only would he need the meds and reams of rest, he'd need help and he just didn't want to rely on anyone. Asking for help simply wasn't in his nature.

Feeling sorry for himself, Danny stayed hidden under the blanket for just a few seconds longer until his own stifling heat made breathing impossible. Trying to be resolute, he pawed the covers off his face and crawled himself out of the bed, wheezing and standing hunched over. He stood there, wavering in place, trying not to be upset because it had barely been a day since this latest diagnosis and for all intents and purposes, the diagnosis wasn't even all that bad. Pleasant? No, of course not and made worse by a stupid head cold. But it was part of the healing process and he'd get well. What he'd half expected though had been a miracle cure especially since he'd felt so comfortable after that first massive dose of medication. Because of that comfort, he hadn't quite anticipated waking nearly the same as the prior day ... feeling nearly the same way as when he'd had to call Steve to help him with Charlie.

 _Steve_. Danny's lips unexpectedly quirked upwards into a thoughtful smile as his muzzy memory reminded him of that first - and then the _second_ \- peacefully shared kiss. That happier path doused some of the pain he was feeling.

No doubt he'd surprised Steve the first time, and Danny remembered enough now to feel satisfied that he'd had the wherewithal to find Steve's mouth for a second time and perhaps even a sketchy third or fourth before sleep had won out. He'd proven that he'd meant it... and he still did. And though it had been as uncertain as hell, Danny remembered that Steve had recovered smoothly to return his kisses before warmly threading his fingers through Danny's hair and Danny's grin turned into a genuinely pleased smile.

Steve and Charlie were somewhere out and about in the house and Danny shuffled forward suddenly needing to find them. It was nice knowing that Steve was still there with his son. Nice wasn't exactly the right word though. Danny had never felt quite the same way with his ex-wife. Truth be told, if one of them were sick, each had been more on their own then not. Sure they'd help out with the necessities, but having Steve around was different. It was comforting and his presence took a huge weight from Danny's shoulders unlike anything he'd ever expected.

"Steve? Charlie?" Danny's voice sounded hoarse from his cold and barely projected down the hallway even though the house was absolutely quiet. Far too quiet in fact and Danny gave brief pause to wonder just how long he'd really been sleeping. Based on the long, sunny shadows leaking across the floor though the windows, certainly long enough since it seemed to be nearing dusk after another brilliantly sunny Hawaiian day. The advancing shadows seemed to agree with the hot pain flaring in his chest; it was getting late and, as he reflexively clutched at his chest, Danny was overdo for a number of things.

He was distracted by that mind-boggling pain and wondering why he was still alone when he walked into the living room. He stopped in his tracks, his arms wrapped around his middle, his eyes widening at what he was seeing. All of Charlie's toy cars were strewn across the floor, which wasn't so bad. But it was taking Danny some time to process why every magazine, book and plastic Hot Wheels Team car play-set seemed to be inter-locked together. Danny blinked stupidly as he followed what seemed to be a chaotic mess from the front door to the top of the sofa, down to the floor and then up again to a side chair. More plastic car track ran straight across the floor, literally disappearing under a chair to come out its other side.

"What the ... hell?" Danny mumbled, utterly confused until he realized - with the help of the book-elevated, multi-loop Hot Wheels track smack dab in the middle of the floor - that he was staring at a manmade, miniature race-track.

It was astonishing really and probably had taken hours to build and to get just right. Some cars were poised teetering on the binding of a hardcover book. Others had apparently "crashed and burned" at the foot of the multi-loop and there was a "wreck" on the straight track complete with miniature Army men and a toy helicopter, conceivably for triage. Danny's mouth opened and then closed, unsure of what to say or even do until he saw Steve's bare foot sticking out from behind the sofa. That was ... strange ... and Danny almost felt a surge of terror until he heard what sounded like the undertone of soft snores.

"Steve?" Danny croaked as he slowly rounded the far side only to stop dead again, his mouth now gaping wide open. He sniffled and scrubbed at his nose, daring himself not to sneeze or cough. Not now ... he definitely couldn't do that now.

Steve was sound asleep. But, he was laying flat out on his back with Charlie literally slung across his chest. His left hand was splayed across Charlie's back as if holding him safely in place while he, too, slept. Charlie's tousled head was just under Steve's chin and the boy had a toy car clenched in each loosely-made fist, his small body rising and falling in time to each of his Uncle's deep inhales and exhales.

"Uh? Guys?" Danny breathed out quietly, still confused but not sure why he was so slow on the uptick. It was easy enough to see that the two had fallen asleep mid-play amongst a mine-field of toy cars and made-up race tracks.

 

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Hawaii Five-0 or any characters. No copyright infringement intended.
> 
> Notes: Chapter 5. Now, how did this happen? I KNOW Jazzie is giggling somewhere since this was supposed to be 3 chapters long. Just 3 ... 3. Yup.
> 
> Phoebe is endlessly patient as well w the volume of "drafty" drafts being tossed her way. :-)

 

 

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O**

 

Though he wanted to savor the moment, in his condition Danny couldn't just stand there and he definitely couldn't sit anywhere for the elaborate layout, so he backed away as quietly as he could, stepping over and avoiding both toy cars and race track with his bare feet. Once in the kitchen, he was out of breath and wheezing badly. Making matters worse though, he just couldn't seem to catch his breath and he needed to lean both his hands on the counter as he fought his mixed emotions.

Too many questions began to tumble though his head though. Danny loved his son so much that it actually hurt sometimes and he really did love Steve in just about the same way. What he'd just witnessed only strengthened that love because Steve was a natural at just about everything - and it was obvious that just like Grace, Charlie trusted his Uncle Steve implicitly. But when it came to his kids, they came first and Danny swiped at his face, torn and not knowing what to do.

He had no business ruining a good thing. He had no right to foist yet another change on his kids, especially risking the relationship they had with Steve when they needed an example of stability. Maybe Uncle Steve was good enough and they as the adults should just leave well enough alone.

In his beleaguered, sickly state, that suddenly made sense to him. Danny shook his head, annoyed because he could be happy enough with the way things were. Plus, Steve could do better than him anyway. If they tried and then had irreconcilable differences, they'd screw up everything and be no better than Rachel and what she'd done by breaking up two different homes. He and Steve couldn't - and shouldn't - risk doing that to the kids.

Besides, Charlie was just a little boy and he'd never understand another break-up after the debacle with Rachel and Stan. Poor Stan who one day had been Charlie's father and then suddenly just wasn't. In a crazy case of bait and switch, _Danno_ had gone from being Grace's daddy to being Charlie's daddy and then ... _Stan_? Charlie's first and only father had tried to hang on, but little by little, he'd asked to see Charlie less and less until he'd just disappeared. Then one day, Charlie had seemingly forgotten all about him, too.

Danny didn't want that to happen again. He didn't want that to happen to Steve. He needed to put his foot down before it was too late.

Even thinking about what _could_ happen made Danny's head spin and he was sick enough as it was. Upset with himself, Danny closed his eyes and for the first time just let himself openly hurt. From the throbbing of his sinuses to the vise around his chest, he stood there and let it all just happen. He coughed and cringed at the painful tightening. Maybe the pain would force him back to his senses because what he'd been considering about himself and Steve? It was ludicrous at best. He took a shallow inhale, wincing at the ache and needing to meld his elbow to his rib cage in a vain attempt to shore up the damaged nerves. It didn't work though and Danny wound up juddering through the next few breaths, his eyes tearing up from the pain, unable to stop the coughs until they eased on their own.

"Danny? Are you all right?"

"Steve," Danny whispered hoarsely. He hung his head lower at the breathy quiet tone of Steve's voice which had suddenly resonated from behind him. That warmth he felt standing in the living room settled in the pit of his stomach. It took all the strength he had to not wipe the reactive tears from his eyes and even more to stop white-knuckling the counter because Steve would read into all of that.

"Yeah, I'm good ... I'm okay."

"You're a lousy liar. You're shaking and you sound awful," Steve said. "How long have you been up? You're due for meds." He'd stopped within a few feet of where Danny was standing; even without turning around or opening his eyes, Danny could feel how close Steve was. He could hear him breathing.

"Where's Charlie?" Danny asked instead still refusing to budge. He knew exactly where Charlie was, but if he turned now, he'd ruin any of the half-baked resolve to push Steve away like he'd conjured up in his head. A minute later it didn't matter because Steve had moved. He was now directly behind Danny, his hands placed comfortably on Danny's shoulders. Partly an excuse, Danny knew, for Steve to quite literally gauge Danny's general wellness. Partly too because Danny had given him permission by leading him down some inexcusable path they'd never be able to stay on.

"He's sleeping ... on the floor in the living room," Steve explained as the pads of his thumbs kneaded small circles into the stiff muscles of Danny's neck. This was yet another test as Steve gently checked him out. Without a doubt, Danny knew Steve was closely examining him; weighing and measuring how sick he was as he continued speaking. "He's such a good kid, Danny," Steve added. "But he's also a tired little guy after all we did today. School was exciting and then he asked if he could ride his bike around the block. When we got back, he still had energy to spare so we kind of built a race course in the living room. But he's going to be starving when he wakes up. But Danny ... I can tell you're in pain. How bad? Is it like before?"

"Not too bad," Danny replied. But he shook his head helplessly, incapable of shirking out from underneath's Steve's hands when Steve made a disbelieving sound under his breath. Steve knew he would try to play it all down and lie before he opened his mouth.

"You want to try that again for me, Danno?" Steve said sarcastically. "You're in pain ... you've got to stay on schedule with the meds to stay ahead of it. No missing doses, starting now."

Danny groaned, refusing to talk as Steve fingers found a tight spot. _Yes, he was hurting again ... he needed his meds ... and now he was mixed up too._ Steve's fingers were soothing on his neck and shoulders. Unconsciously, Danny hung his head even lower, melting under the attention that was being lavished on him. But this was all it had to be: kindness. This is where it had to end as a friend helping a friend. He'd had a moment of weakness and he'd been stupid for what he'd done earlier. He'd only been lost in his emotions and now, before things got out of hand, he needed to set things on the straight and narrow. Taking a deep breath, Danny bit back an unexpected cough before he forced his feet to move enough so that he finally wound up facing his partner with his back against the counter.

"So?" Steve prodded softly.

As he looked up into Steve's face, Danny shook his head again, chastising himself. He never should have turned around to see how concerned Steve was ... for him. Probably even for Charlie. Squirreling away his courage, Danny did his best to state the facts while he tried to ignore the look in Steve's eyes.

"Steve. We need to talk - ..." and that was as far as Danny got.

"No. Before you say anything else, there's nothing wrong with what we're doing or even just thinking of doing," Steve interrupted. He smirked, eyebrow raised in challenge when Danny's mouth fell open. "Yeah, so? I know exactly what you think you want to talk about, but _hell_ we're almost there already." His tone was so soft and so very quiet, Danny could barely hear him. Yet that did little to dispel Steve's strength of purpose. In fact, his demeanor was so stoic, it brooked no argument and Danny's original plans about what to say were completely derailed.

"This could be a big mistake," Danny finally said, trying to salvage some of his intentions and hoping against all odds that Steve might be on the same page even though it was obvious that he wasn't. "I shouldn't have ... _before_. You know ... it was the medication."

"Of course it wasn't the medication," Steve snorted softly now almost in derision. "And of course you're sure ... we're both sure. You meant it; you said you did and I meant it too. And, I mean it now. I think almost losing you twice was enough of a nudge. At least for me."

"Are you patronizing me?" Danny asked with as much heat as he could muster, losing his plot when Steve stepped closer, his hands now on Danny's hips. Steve was being blatantly honest - even scarily so. He was still very much plagued by what had happened on the boat and then in the hospital itself. He'd been helpless from the word go in protecting his team and then in protecting Danny. Steve took those failings personally each and every one. They were not to be tolerated. Ever. And now, still not knowing who had so brazenly attacked Danny to nearly kill him, was tearing Steve up inside every second of every day.

Not having the heart to argue anymore as Steve tensed up, Danny looked away, finding a spot on Steve's t-shirt near its abstract insignia . "We'll figure it out ... you'll figure it out," Danny whispered. "I'm sorry that I just don't remember the guy ... I can't ... I just don't know even after pulling my old files from Jersey."

"I am going to find out who that bastard was," Steve snapped the words out under his breath. "I swear to you I will and if there's anyone else involved ... anyone at all ... I swear, Danno. I'm gong to find out." The switch from the gentle, soft aura Steve had been projecting to one of hard, cold hate was tangible and Danny grimaced unhappily.

"I know," he said. "I know you will." Danny focused hard on that spot on Steve's chest in a desperate attempt to stay on an even keel as Steve's hands slid up his arms. They were suddenly both rattled by the memory of that violent attack; uneasy by the unknowns still out there. Danny was too sick to say anything else for a minute and in all honesty, Steve's warmth felt good. Just then, he needed it. He was desperate for the contact as he tried to dispel a spike of fear. In desperation, Danny practically glared at Steve's t-shirt until the insignia blurred into nothingness. Then, Danny closed his eyes and tried to ignore the sickly shudder which rolled through him.

"No," Steve said after a long pause. There was such another long delay after that one word, that Danny squinted his eyes back open to peer up into Steve's face. The look he saw there was far from that spike of fury now. However he'd done it, Steve was once more in that quiet zone as he drew in a purposeful breath. "No. We don't need to talk about anything. I know that you would be _you_ if you didn't have doubts. But I know what they stem from, too ... these doubts are not about _us_ as much as they're about Grace ... and Charlie."

"We have nothing in common," Danny muttered lamely because Steve had hit the nail on its head.

"We have nothing in common?" Steve said in disbelief. He chuckled when he read Danny's guilty expression. "I think we have more in common than you'll ever admit. We're perfect for each other, Danno ... we complete each other."

"We ... _what_?" Danny blurted as he blinked a few times, his mouth falling open. Steve suddenly looked like a little boy. Or, like a cat who might have swallowed a canary. No doubt Danny looked funny himself as he stared stupidly up into Steve's face. Had Steve actually spouted a movie quote ... and from that old movie Danny thought it was from?

"It's true ... and it's a good fit," Steve replied calmly to the unspoken questions without breaking stride. "Tell me - why is this so bad then, Danny? I'm only making sure that you're taking care of yourself," Steve said as he kissed the side of Danny's head. "Because you don't ... and you're _not_. For now, this right here? This is enough. It's what we both want. And this is what we both need."

"See! That right there," Danny argued the kiss as Steve smiled down at him. " _That_ was wrong and Steve ...this is dumb. There's no other word for it. We can't do this. Besides, stop kissing me ... I'm sick and you'll just get sick, too."

"Why don't you just stop worrying so damn much, Danno," Steve said as he dared to plant yet another kiss to the exact same spot much to Danny's dismay. "I'm not going to catch your cold and we're not _doing_ anything. Not yet. Would it help if I told you that I loved Charlie? And Grace ... but I love you, too? And just as much ... maybe even more."

"I know you do and I love you, too," Danny answered truthfully without even thinking about it. But then he was back to shaking his head at the futility of it all because it - _them_ \- wasn't ever going to work. Not at all even as he automatically returned a soft, gentle and very chaste kiss which had not so inadvertently been pressed to his lips. "Maybe too much and I ..."

"You what? You love me too much?" Steve interrupted, more than pleased, his nose now rubbing affectionately across Danny's in an idle pattern. " _But_ ... and let me finish for you because I know you like the back of my hand, Danno. You're not worried about me or you. You're worried about Grace and Charlie ... not even about what they'd think if we became more, but if we tried and then didn't work out. I'm not even going to ask you if I'm right because I know that I am. And to be honest, I get it ... and I'd never do a thing to hurt those kids."

"Not on purpose. Things happen though," Danny said quietly. "They do even if we'd try our best and ..."

"Yeah, they sure do happen," Steve chuckled as he tucked Danny into his chest being careful to take his weight and not jar him badly. "Things happen ... _good_ things happen - not just bad ones. So I say, it's about time that we just stuck it out to see where it all goes. Maybe this winds up being it ... maybe this is all we are together. But maybe it's not and is finding out all that bad? I say no it's not. I like where we are now, but if we wind up being even _more_ \- however that gets figured out - how great would that be, _huh_?"

"Steve," Danny tried to object but he'd nothing left to argue about. His resolve was gone. He closed his eyes as Steve pulled him into that careful embrace where he seemed to fit so perfectly, Steve's hands just skirting over the healed wound on Danny's back. Within seconds, Steve had found that magical spot which calmed the deep ache and allowed Danny a chance to breathe without too much pain.

"Neither one of us never though we'd find ourselves here in this place, did we?" Steve whispered. "But if you think about it, we're not changing much of anything at all, Danno. Give yourself a break and just ... get well, okay? I need to know you're okay and healing up; and I need to be here, helping you, including the kids. I know Grace has her own thing for the most part, but I can help with Charlie. I _want_ to help with Charlie and I _want_ to be here for you. We'll worry about everything else later. Is any of that so wrong?"

"No," Danny admitted softly. He didn't say anything else as he let his head sink into Steve's chest, his fingers gripping the edges of Steve's shirt. He kept his eyes closed and focused on the strength of Steve's fingers as they massaged the sensitive sections of his back and side. He marveled over how Steve just knew the right pressure points which eased the ache in the damaged nerve-endings. No, this wasn't wrong at all.

"Just leave things to me," Steve added quietly as his fingers repeated that warm pattern across Danny's back and then gently over the injured places near his ribs. "Let's just see what happens, Danno."

 

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Hawaii Five-0 or any characters. No copyright infringement intended.
> 
> Notes: wow - Like I told Phoebe, I think I finally found this story's natural ending. Thanks SO MUCH PHOEBE for the last minute reads and patient reviews of "drafty drafts" and a couple of re-writes. I really appreciate all the help.
> 
> So, here it is and much continued happy, wonderful birthday wishes Jazzie! I hope you enjoyed this spontaneous (not so whumpy ... oddly more romanctic-ky) birthday story which doubled its originally intended size of 3 chapters. LOL!
> 
> Thanks to everyone who left so wonderful comments and encouraged this AU to continue on; each and every review means A LOT! I'm not caught up on replying due to RL, but I will try and catch up to thank each personally.

 

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O**

 

For the weekend, they'd moved from Danny's place to Steve's larger home so that Charlie could play on the beach and so that Danny could have a change of scenery. Little had Danny known that Steve had had some obtuse plans of physical therapy for him which involved the Pacific Ocean. Once home, Steve insisted for hours that Danny would feel better after a swim and in all that time, Danny had done his level best to object. That the warm saltwater and the light waves would help with the pain in Danny's chest; Danny had flatly disagreed. He'd dug his heels in hard with every excuse under the sun but in the end, he'd lost the battle. There was something about the combined pleadings of both Steve and his son which had eventually worn Danny down. When he'd finally agreed to at least try, Steve hadn't hovered over him too badly. He'd been watchful though as he played with Charlie; keen as ever, while Danny muttered endlessly under his breath about bad ideas and misguided judgement. He'd kept the quiet tirade up as he'd entered the water up to his ankles first, then his knees. Steve hadn't been able to hide his grin though as Charlie had egged his father on to go in deeper, splashing and teasing him relentlessly until Danny now stood chest-deep, low waves lapping occasionally over his shoulders.

Danny was now learning that he'd been wrong. Though he was still a little tense about what they were doing, the saltwater was buoyant enough and the waves gentle enough. Once again Danny had lost his resolve. Steve had wisely left Danny to find his comfort zone where he could figure out on his own that the water would simply do the rest. The tight muscles in Danny's back suddenly didn't have to do as much work. The sun and the fresh air were doing wonders for his fickle mood. And of all things, his cold symptoms had also miraculously disappeared. At peace, Danny closed his eyes, his fingertips trailing wide circles to form ripples. For once, he didn't really hurt or feel sick at all.

"The water helps?" Steve asked softly. "It does right? It's good?"

Danny squinted his eyes back open before giving in to Steve's hopeful tone with an agreeable nod.

"That's it? You gonna answer me or what?" Steve snorted comically because even though Danny was smiling, that nod evidently wasn't good enough. Steve wanted more and quite frankly, he deserved more, too.

"Yeah, it's pretty darn good," Danny offered. "It's perfect." He'd lost that original moan and bitch battle a long time ago and now, Danny cocked his head Steve's way. He'd needed something to lift his spirits and leave it to Steve to figure the right thing out. But, as Danny reminded himself, Steve had been doing that since ... _well_ ... for a very long time; in fact, he did the right thing pretty damned often of late. Danny caught Charlie's eye where he sat perched on his uncle's shoulders and beamed up at his son, too.

"Are you having a good time, buddy?" Danny asked. "Are you having fun?"

"Yes," Charlie said emphatically. The sun was cascading down on him, glinting off his blond hair, and Danny was glad that Steve had insisted on Charlie wearing a rash-guard to protect his skin from the sun. That had been a battle royal, but Steve in the end, had won that argument too.

"It's fun, daddy ... it's good. Right?"

"Yup it's fun and you were right, too ... I feel a lot better and it's really helping more than I thought." Danny said, adding a coy grin for Steve's sake. "Happy now?"

"Yes!" Charlie shouted first and Danny had to laugh at the look of sheer delight on his son's face. He'd been aching to swim all day, the only squabble being over his need to wear a shirt with his board-shorts. But then, Charlie had really wanted his father in the water, too. For whatever reason, he'd wanted both his uncle and his father this time ... it had to be all three of them together having fun. Danny was glad that his son had been as equally as persistent as his uncle.

"Very happy," Steve said in a low meaningful voice. "I'm just ... you know." It was almost an odd thing to say as their eyes met and held. But then, the warmth of Steve's smile was all for him and Danny's grin deepened.

"Me too," Danny whispered as his lips twitched upwards. "You know." He briefly diverted his attention out towards the horizon, self-conscious, inhaling as deeply as he dared while the water swirled over his shoulders with a comfortable side-ways tug. Another contrary tide circled lower by his ribs, its warmth just as soothing and yet Danny found himself looking back into Steve's face, unable to look away from the dark hazel which seemed to alternately sparkle and absorb the shifting crystal pattern the sun's rays reflected off the water.

"Hey, did you hear that, Charlie?" Steve suddenly asked more loudly as he patted Charlie's knee. He switched course seamlessly even if his eyes continued to hold a gleam that Danny couldn't quite put words to. "See Charlie, what did I tell you? Uncle Steve was right," Steve said, still watching Danny very closely.

"Danno's swimming," Charlie said, his giggle infectious. "He's all wet." For no reason at all, except to be funny, he kicked his feet wildly as he sat tall on his uncle's shoulders. Water splashed Danny directly in the face and Charlie giggled louder when Danny made a show of wiping the droplets from his eyes and cheeks.

"Well, he's not exactly _swimming_ ," Steve noted wryly. "But it's good enough for me. Anyway, I told you it would help, right, Danno?" Steve had to say it again, genuinely pleased as they stood deep in the waters off his beach. "Wasn't this a great idea? _Huh_? Wasn't it?"

"A _great_ idea? That I don't know," Danny said with a laugh as he looked around them and then back towards the beach. They were out fairly far and Danny felt a tiny flare of insecurity as a slightly bigger wave took him a few inches off the sandy bottom. He paused until he rediscovered his footing and then continued.

"Tide's coming in," Steve stated. "We should go in ..."

"But I want to do it again," Charlie piped up bringing Danny's thoughts back to center. "Now! Again!" Without waiting for permission from either adult, he started to grab for Steve's hands, shifting gears as he tried to stand on Steve's shoulders.

"Again?" Steve asked, already laughing as he helped Charlie up, small feet miraculously balanced on his shoulders and he seemed to defy gravity. "Okay, bud, just one or two more times ... then we go in."

"Again?" Danny said at the same because Charlie'd already done this a thousand times. He looked from his son to Steve and made a face. "Can't we find another game, _huh_? How about building a nice sandcastle before the tide comes in?"

"No! Not yet! Throw me," Charlie demanded. "Throw me high ... and _far_ ...Uncle Steve!"

"Throw him," Danny muttered under his breath, using one hand to shade his eyes from the glare since Charlie seemed already pretty darn high up to him as his son literally locked his knees, his face full of confidence. "What have you done to my son, Steven? He's not a little boy anymore, now he's a fish."

"Ah, come on Danno," Steve chuckled as he helped Charlie keep his balance high on his shoulders by letting go of the boy's hands to secure those small knees instead. He smirked slyly knowing that Danny wasn't entirely happy about the goings on and yet he had yet to officially pull the plug on their antics.

"Hurry it up," Danny said. "The tide ..."

"We got a few minutes," Steve whispered. "Hey ..." His voice trailed off and Danny swallowed hard when Steve unexpectedly mouthed ' _I love you Danno',_ his smirk knowing no bounds. Danny felt his face flush hot at the unexpected shared sentiments. Then Steve's attention was back on the task at hand and he was on the move, water swirling around him in small eddies.

"I'm only going to throw the kid _this_ far ... hold on tight, Charlie ... here it comes! Two times buddy and that's it ... no arguments."

With that Steve was already sinking under the water bending his own knees and Danny made a startled sound deep in his throat as Charlie's laughter screeched through the air. His eyes met Danny's, full of anticipation and then he was grappling for a hold on Steve's head as the water rose around his hips. A scant second later, Steve was surging upwards and literally sending the five year old catapulting though the air, arms and legs windmilling. Charlie splashed down a good many feet away and Danny held his breath even as his son briefly disappeared.

He didn't have to worry at all.

Danny _never_ had to worry since Steve was already cutting the distance - _under water._ Like some kind of a stealthy, super-human submarine by the time Charlie was surfacing, he was there. And Charlie? Giggling hysterically, Charlie could see his Uncle Steve's shadow rushing at him through the water and he knew what was coming next.

"Danno help!" He yelled as he tried to swim back to his father in time, but it was already far too late and Danny was once again laughing, too, because this time, Charlie was all arms and legs as Steve swooped him back up.

"Gotcha!" Steve shouted as he captured Charlie to his chest. He tickled him then and hefted Charlie high only to make believe he didn't want him anymore with a loud disgusted snort. " _Nah_ ... you're too little so I'm throwing you back!"

"No, no, no!" Charlie yelped around his laughter as Steve lifted him higher only to literally toss him back Danny's way. " _Daddy_!"

"Here, Danno! _Catch_!" Steve called out as he sent the boy sailing through the air. This time when Charlie surfaced, still giggling like mad, Danny was there to wrap him up into a tight hug. He'd genuinely never seen his son so happy and a smattering of kisses soon followed that hug, leading to even more breathless laughter.

"Race you in before the big waves come!" Danny kidded Charlie as he let him go to swim towards shore. It was a calculated move as Danny waited for Steve to catch up to him. And he was still in his son's wake when Steve's arm snaked around his back, his strength secure and comforting. Leaning into Steve's body, Danny paused just long enough to look up into his partner's face, briefly mesmerized by the saltwater which was glinting off the mussed brunet strands of hair. Then, he glanced once in the direction of his son, ensuring the boy was already in the shallows by the beach before turning completely into Steve's chest.

"What? You okay?" Steve asked breathlessly, definitely senselessly in Danny's opinion as he pulled Steve into his arms. He'd never been better.

"Fine," Danny whispered as he looked into Steve's eyes, warmth pooling in the pit of his stomach. _Steve was right,_ they just worked in all the best ways. Danny snorted softly through his nose as the Pacific circled their hips, the waves growing slightly stronger as the tide began to come in in earnest.

"Danny?" Steve asked, quietly. His eyes were soft, warm, and he was watching Danny intently. "What's up?"

"Nothing, except ... I love you too," Danny whispered. He rested his forehead against Steve's chest, smiling when Steve pulled him in snug.

 _No_ , he certainly never thought he would find himself here ... happy ... and perfectly content. That they would find themselves at this peculiar and yet perfectly sensible place.

 

_**~ End. ~** _


End file.
